Even when she fell ill a few years ago, her spirit never dimmed. She still found ways to reach out, to ask after everyone, and to share laughter. I remember once I hadn’t called her for about six weeks. Then I called several times but couldn’t reach her. Later, she called me back, and before she could say much, I quickly said, “Auntie Cecie, I’ve been calling you and you weren’t responding!” She burst into laughter and said, “I just wanted to score the credit that I was the first to call after six weeks of silence!” That was so much like her — full of wit, full of life, and full of love. To me, she was far more than a boss. She was a mentor, a sister, a friend — my Nyoko tsentsen, (my tall friend). Behind her, Rhoda and I used that nickname with affection and laughter. It was our secret way of saying how special she was to us. Losing her feels like losing a guiding light — but I find comfort in knowing that her values, her laughter, and her love continue to live on in all of us she touched. To Dela, her beloved daughter: your mother adored you. She spoke of you with so much love and pride. May you be comforted by the knowledge that she lives on — not only in your heart, but in the hearts of all of us who were privileged to know and love her. Rest well, Auntie Cecie. You worked hard, you loved deeply, and you left us richer with your wisdom, your laughter, and your light. You will forever be missed — but never forgotten. 1946 MRS. CECILIA JOHNSON 2025 81 A Loving Farewell
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